Pity
by Delita-Rose
Summary: Short-Shot. Draco feels pity for a forgotten red head and finds that he nags at himself for his mother. Wonderful.


Pity

Why, his mind asked. Why her? A pathetic little red head that he'd never really noticed before. She was being drizzled on just like himself, but he supposed she'd been out here far longer than he. Her shirt was starting to cling in the most alluring way and he couldn't seem to drag his gaze away from her taunt stomach and ripe little-he slowly pulled himself away from her, she was a blood traitor and it would do him no good to oggle her during Care of Magical Creatures. Maybe looking at the bigger picture would help him distance himself, he panned out taking in her slender frame, a shaking frame. Looking closer he noticed flame red cheeks to rival her hair. Was she sick or just embarrassed?

She swayed, her legs buckling slightly. Sick he decided, and not fairing well. She wasn't dressed for the outside, a thin shirt and short skirt didn't do much against the late October rain, he sighed thinking that her brother should be watching out for her more than he was. Well…Her brother was an idiot.

He was pulled from his train of thought as her skin turned a clammy green color and she stumbled back against a tree. Shite. She really was sick. There was nothing he could do about it however, not without embarrassing himself. She sank to the ground, sitting in the mud; her head lolling to the side. She looked like a broken flower to him, a rose that was plucked then dropped, blossom first, into the mud. She was completely defenseless, left behind with a group of strangers as her own house moved swiftly inside to the warm castle. She was alone, unconscious against a tree trunk, cold and completely unaware of any danger. A surge of emotion pushed at his stomach.

Pity.

His brain and his body seemed out of sync for a moment as he analyzed the situation. He pitied her, the pure shock of feeling pity knocked him so far away from his normal self that his graceful gate was flawed and he stumbled into one of his house mates. Muttering an apology, he returned his gaze back the girl at hand. She was beautiful in a strange way, a helpless kind of way. He was no Potter, he had no wish to save anyone; it was honestly none of his business rather she was left alone or not. His stomach however didn't agree as another wave of emotion washed over him. What if no one noticed? A little twisted voice whispered in his mind, oddly enough it sounded just like his mother. What if she was left out side for the night? It would take hours for some one in her house to realize that she was gone. Hours in the rain and she was already sick…The little voice trailed off, leaving the scenario wide open for his over active imagination to play upon. A great bloody spider could eat her in the night, he though, or she could die from exposure. He didn't think he could live with that guilt.

Wonderful, he though. He was guilt tripping himself. His mother would be so proud that his subconscious was her nagging voice and that she no longer had to nag him, he did it for her! Sighing in frustration and knowing it would tarnish his pride he stepped quickly to her side. Pulling off his cloak he swiftly pulled the petite red head to himself and wrapped her up. Slipping an arm under her knees and another around her shoulders he swiftly scooped her up and headed towards the castle. Ignoring the glares from his housemates he shouldered past and left them to the cold rain. At least he'd be warm.

"I don't want the red frogs, mum." She mumbled softly to his chest as he jostled her along.

Despite his disgust at himself, he chuckled, "I'm sure you wanted the green snakes."

"Mmm, yes. Green. Much sexier than red."

"I thought we were talking about frogs and snakes?", he frowned trying to fathom where her mind was. He was certain she was delusional now but her family did seem a little odd anyway…

"No, colors. The world is Technicolor." She sang, slightly off key. Her eyes fluttered open, "And you're grey. Always grey. A storm off the coast, foreboding. Never the sunrise, always clouds…too deep to see the clouds in your eyes. I think you're lovely."

"You're talking non-sense Weasley."

"Doesn't matter anyway. You won't remember this in the morning." She murmured to herself as she drifted off. Shaking his head he continued up the path and through the castle doorway. Snape greeted Draco at the doors with a double take and a sputter.


End file.
